


in the end I guess it just has to be you

by Molnija



Series: everything but you [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Getting Back Together, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, ah yes the pain, i'm never doing this again, writing this broke my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molnija/pseuds/Molnija
Summary: Time stops.





	in the end I guess it just has to be you

**Author's Note:**

> (no the title is most certainly not a Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun reference what kind of person do you take me for? //coughs no honestly I swear it's coincidence it's just a really nice title oKAY)
> 
> read the other two before this or it won't make much sense. or don't. I still cannot tell you what to do I'm sorry I just write and give advice I'm gonna ... go now ....
> 
> hey look it didn't take me a literal year to finish this! I swear I was actually continuously working on it, I just rewrote it a million times. the first few drafts were all long but terrible and in the end I settled on the most painful one. might as well go out on a bang. don't think the suffering is over quite yet
> 
> this whole "writing continuously painful stuff" thing isn't for me I think ... this whole series has made my heart hurt. is it supposed to do that when you're the one writing it? it's kind of a nice feeling but also very taxing. very different from the stuff I'm used to writing.
> 
> and the award for shortest summary goes tooooooo ... that's what you get for using the first sentence for all of the fics in this series. I don't wanna break the pattern at this point.

Time stops.

Tooru barely registers someone running into him and loudly complaining, but his eyes are fixed on the person behind those dividers that suddenly look more like a glass wall he cannot break.

There’s no way. It’s impossible. Keiji is in Kyoto. This isn’t Kyoto. He can see the Tokyo tower from his apartment and it wouldn’t be named that if it stood in Kyoto.

But Keiji is here, no doubt about it. This isn’t a person who looks similar, no long-lost twin or doppelgänger. He’d recognise him anywhere.

So why?

“Stop standing around, idiot, it’s called running for a reason— Oh.” Kuroo’s voice turns quiet when his gaze falls on Keiji, who at this point in time looks like he’s about to cry, a sentiment Tooru can understand.

If Keiji is here without him knowing, that means he didn’t even care enough to tell him.

He wants to see the good in it, the slightly more optimistic side – maybe Aruka sent him here for the photoshoot and he’ll leave again once that’s done, so he didn’t want to burden them by meeting but failed to stay out of his sight. But the company responsible for this isn’t Aruka. It’s that new one, Rizumia. Who are affiliated with Aruka, but certainly not enough so that they’d have to pull from one of their two big branches, the other of which is in Tokyo in the first place. It makes no sense.

Which means Keiji has been relocated. But if so, he’d tell him, right?

_Right?_

He wants to talk to him so desperately, but at the same time he doesn’t think he could take a rejection. Not after he spent so long agonising over him and fighting to get better.

And for what other reason than rejecting him would Keiji be silent about this?

“What’s going on here?” Okudake asks and taps his shoulder. Tooru spins around so quickly he almost falls over and switches on his best apologetic smile. It’s shaky, but it’ll have to do.

“Nothing, I just … Thought there was something wrong with the camera crew so I got distracted.” It’s not a lie.

Okudake sighs in relief. “Oh, thank goodness, I thought you were hurt. Pay attention to what you’re doing and let’s continue.”

That sounds an awful lot like everything he constantly told himself these past few months, so much so that he almost laughs out loud. Cruel irony, huh? Paying attention to anything right now, let alone himself, is a struggle all on its own. For all he’s concerned, he may as well be a blob in the middle of the gym with no purpose or ability to do anything.

Regardless, he starts running again, staring forward at everything but Keiji, and does his best to try and not think of anything but practice.

 

* * *

 

Yachi’s stare is burning a hole in his back.

Keiji doesn’t turn around to face her though. Instead his gaze is fixed on Tooru, who is making a clear effort to avoid his eyes. Even though he wants nothing more than to turn around and run away, his feet are glued to the floor and his hands are gripping the camera so hard he might break it.

He feels sick.

Bokuto and Kuroo are there too. The former doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet despite the commotion, but Kuroo occasionally looks over to him and then Tooru with worry, as if he has no idea what’s happening but is still trying to make it work somehow. Which is probably exactly the truth.

After all, he wouldn’t know. Not why Keiji is here and not why he didn’t tell anyone.

It’s such a stupid reason. Lack of time. Stress at work. Wanting to make this _just_ right—

Oh, who is he kidding? He was terrified.

Terrified that Tooru may have moved on. Terrified that his friends may be judging him for leaving like that and then coming back anyway. Terrified that there wouldn’t be a place for him anymore. Terrified of being replaced and terrified of rejection.

He was thinking all big back in Kyoto, but now that his plans have actually born fruit, he can’t do anything.

But all of this, all this awkward staring and air of broken promises, all of it could have been averted had he just talked to him as soon as he had the chance. So what if it would have been a phone call. It’s better than … This.

If Tooru didn’t want him to leave again before, this definitely did it.

“Akaashi-san?” Yachi says, gently dragging him out of his miserable thought process by tapping on his shoulder. “Are … Are you alright? I-I can call a doctor if you’re not feeling well. Or maybe you just … Maybe you just need to go outside for a bit …”

“It’s okay,” he forces himself to say and it comes out strained. He can’t even manage to fake a smile, so he must look pathetic.

Nothing is okay. How would it be? But he won’t allow anyone else to be drawn into this spiral of misfortune. He has a job to do, and do it he will.

He can still talk to Tooru after that. That is if he’ll listen.

He could write this off a surprise – a “hey look, I’m here now, Merry early Christmas” – but even if he wanted to lie, his reaction would have given him away anyway. And they deserve better than something built on a flimsy excuse.

“Yo, Keiji-kun,” someone says behind him and when he turns around, one of his colleagues is holding out a piece of paper with notes hastily scribbled on it. They hadn’t been there when he saw the paper yesterday. “We had to change the interview assignments ‘cuz Hanami bailed on us and we’re one person short now. Can you read it over real quick? Everything should be fine now, but …”

This … Okay, this actually is his job, and he’s grateful for the distraction.

That is until he sees the changes made.

They have got to be kidding him.

He’s supposed to interview Tooru. Which, yes, was Hanami’s job before but why did they put him on the job?

“I … Can’t do that.” He does have the time, but it would absolutely destroy everything even remotely resembling a plan of his.

“N’aww, c’mon, everyone else is busy!” They do extraordinary puppy eyes, that much has to hand it to them, but …

Damn it, he can’t inconvenience everyone like this. He’s been sent to make sure this place runs properly, not to make it more difficult. But dealing with him one-on-one in an interview of all things can’t be good for them either, it’ll just drag down the quality.

“Keiji-kun, please! You’d be an enormous help!”

What does he have to lose besides everything?

“Alright.”

 

* * *

 

Life has its cruel ways of making him miserable.

Tooru thought pretending Keiji wasn’t here was the best option, but that’s difficult to do when he’s sitting in front of him with a voice recorder and a sheet of paper in his hands and they’re alone in a small, dimly lit meeting room. He doesn’t dare look at his face, only stares at the floor in the hopes that it’ll open up and swallow him whole.

Anything – _anything_ but to be faced with this.

“Uhm,” Keiji starts and he wants to cry at the mere sound of his voice. He hasn’t heard it in what feels like an eternity. “I’m not used to doing interviews, so sorry if this is a bit awkward …”

He snorts. “A bit awkward? That’s what you’re calling this?”

The following moment of silence is the most uncomfortable he’s felt in a long time. Eventually, Keiji quietly speaks up again. “I know, I … I’m sorry. I can explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Let’s just get this over with.”

The sooner they’re done with this the better. Part of him is considering giving him a chance to explain himself at least but he’d rather be doing literally anything else. He’s been doing so well – he’s just started to properly recover – he won’t give him an opportunity to hurt him.

Maybe it’s better this way.

From his peripheral vision he sees Keiji’s hand cling to the paper a bit more tightly.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“For the love of god, stop saying that.” The sound of it is heartbreaking. He doesn’t know how much of it he could take.

“Sorr— Uhm, I have a few questions. My co-worker wrote them and I had hardly any time to read them over, so this may be a bit … Difficult, but …” He clears his throat and puts down the recorder on the table next to them. He fiddles with it a little before a small red lamp starts glowing. From now on, all of this will be recorded.

That’s something Tooru can do. He’d consider himself a decent actor.

“So, thank you for making the time for this … Oikawa-san.”

 _Ouch._ He knows it’s just for the sake of professionalism, but being called by his last name by him, honorific and all, seems like a remnant of the times when they weren’t together yet. When they first met, they didn’t get along.

Looks like it’s back to square one.

He has half a mind to storm out of the room and lock himself in a supply closet to cry undisturbed.

“It’s an honour,” he says instead and laughs so unconvincingly he swears he can hear Miya mock him from the other side of the building.

“I’d say let’s start without much ado.” Keiji’s voice is hectic, as if he’s trying to hurry this along and get out of here as soon as possible. He can’t blame him. “You’d been popular in high school and college volleyball for a while, but only recently got accepted into the national team. How did you feel finally getting that invite?”

“Weren’t you there?” Tooru mutters to himself.

“Excuse me, what was that?”

“Nothing, nothing.” This is a professional interview for a professional magazine. No making it personal. He switches on the brightest smile he can muster up right now and looks at the recorder to have something to focus on. “I was really happy! I mean, this has been my dream ever since I started playing volleyball. I saw everyone around me advance but myself, but now I get to stand on the same stage as them. I’ll give it my absolute best.”

If nothing else, he’s not lying, although he’s leaving out the part where everything that happened subsequently led to pretty much the worst time in his life. He’s sure Keiji knows that already.

“So now you’ve achieved your dreams. I’m sure you still have other goals though.” He never thought Keiji was a particularly good actor, and reading a text out loud falls into that, but this is a new level of unnatural even for him. Too fast, too stilted, too strained.

He doesn’t want to know what his face looks like right now or he might break his silent promise to keep to the facts.

At least this provides a convenient distraction. “Well, the Olympics would of course be the absolute best. And winning the world championships … But mostly I just want to help make this a team everyone can be proud of.” He likes to think he’s been doing a decent job with that.

“I see,” Keiji says, voice almost a mumble. “Then … Do you have …” He stops for no discernible reason and it forces Tooru to finally look at him.

He’s clutching the paper like his life depends on it, staring at the words, reading them over and over again until he shakes his head. “This one’s not important.”

“Aren’t you standing in for a co-worker? You should do what they wanted you to.” He’s half curious and half terrified about what could have him so agitated, but he does value good work at the end of the day and won’t have anyone slacking off. “I can still decide if I want to answer.”

“Do you have any regrets?” he blurts out and their eyes meet.

Keiji’s are still as he knows them, blue-green like the ocean, heavy-lidded, _beautiful_. They’ve always been the most expressive part of him – the words he can’t bring himself to say, the feelings he’s hiding, they’re so easy to read.

Right now, they’re desperate. Pleading.

What do you say in this situation?

If he’s honest, he’ll make himself vulnerable. If he lies, he’ll hurt him. If he refuses to answer, he’ll leave the question hanging over them like the sword of Damocles. Either way at least one of them is going to suffer.

He shouldn’t have looked at him. If he hadn’t, he would have had the courage to be cruel.

“There’s … There’s one thing.”

It’s terrible, isn’t it? To be unable to let someone go even though you know it’s best for them. To want them back even though they’re in a better place without you. To say that out loud, right when they least need to hear it.

He doesn’t look away.

“There was a person in my life that I could have kept if I hadn’t been scouted. Well, technically he was the one who had to leave … I just couldn’t follow.”

Keiji’s hand twitches as if he wants to reach out to him, but that touch never comes.

“He’s somewhere else now. Not that it matters anymore. We made our choices.” At least that’s what he thought, Keiji clearly had other plans.

Even though they’re right across from each other, it feels like those 600 kilometres are still between them.

At this point, does he even want to cross them?

“I’m probably better off without him now.”

A bitter lie – or is it the truth – whatever it is – it doesn’t matter. This’ll do nothing but throw him back a few months in terms of recovery. Nothing he hasn’t braved before.

“Tooru—”

“Wasn’t that ‘Oikawa-san’?”

Keiji looks like he just slapped him.

Eyes wide, lips trembling, brows just a little furrowed in confusion and shock, and all of it is Tooru’s fault.

That was needlessly cruel. Why did he say that? He knows he can be harsh, but this took even himself by surprise. Whatever Keiji’s reason was to avoid him, however much knowing the truth would break his heart, this is still a professional interview and that person across from him is still the one he loves.

“I’m sorry—”

“No. Shut up.” Keiji’s hand wanders to the recorder, he presses some button, and the red light turns off. They’re alone again, with no future audience following their every word. “If you won’t let me explain, at least tell me the truth.”

“I haven’t lied once,” he says quietly. That in itself may be a lie, but he’s honestly not sure anymore. The things he said are a blur in his mind that he can’t remember past the pain, just like nothing exist outside of Keiji. Tooru, too, might only be an illusion.

“Then elaborate.” Keiji’s voice matches his own – cold, quiet, painfully controlled. How most of their fights started out.

“What do you want me to do, beg for your forgiveness so you can throw me away again?”

It’s meaningless. It’s all meaningless. In the grand scheme of things, nothing matters.

“Throw you away?” he repeats, staring at him with incredulous eyes. “Are you serious? I didn’t do that.”

“Why are you here then?!”

And there it is.

He breaks.

Tooru stands up from his chair with such intensity it almost falls over backwards. Slams his hands on the table, fully intending to shove it away, but losing the spirit for it halfway through. Feels tears of frustration and anger and loneliness and grief well up. He doesn’t know what to say, so he shouts, like it makes a difference.

“Why did you come back? You left me for Kyoto so stay there, and if you absolutely have to return then at least fucking tell me! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get to where I am right now? I was _miserable_ without you but I was just getting better and then you just decide to show up like this and expect me to do this stupid fucking interview like we’re strangers? _Please_ , as if you couldn’t just have called and said ‘oh hey, I’m back in Tokyo but I don’t care about you anymore so just pay me no mind’ …” He can’t tell his expression with the tears clouding his vision, blurring the last clear thing he had in this godforsaken meeting room until nothing remains.

Nothing remains.                                                                 

He sinks back into his chair.

 

* * *

 

This is everything he was afraid of and it’s all his fault.

Keiji can’t cry. He can’t shout either. All he’s able to do is stare at the mess he created.

Seeing Tooru sobbing into his hands is like the knife that’s been rammed into his heart ever since he saw him is being twisted until the rush of blood overpowers everything. If this was an actual wound, he’d be dead now for certain. This is so much worse in so many ways.

He’s thinking all of those things about him now because Keiji was too scared to make a damn phone call.

He doesn’t know how to right this. He doesn’t know if anyone could.

But he has to try.

“Tooru, please.” Even though his eyes are dry, his voice sounds like he’s just about to cry himself. “That’s not it at all. Please listen to me.”

No answer.

Reaching out to him is terrifying, but he has to. The stupid table is in the way, so he pushes it aside, leans forward, and gently touches his shoulder.

Tooru stiffens under his touch.

“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault you think this way. You’re right, I should have called you. And everyone else for that matter … I screwed up. I know that. But …” He swallows. “But the reason I came back is you. I wanted to return because I couldn’t do it without you.”

Aruka, he realises now, was a dumb idea to begin with. All the creative freedom in the world means nothing if you don’t have anyone to inspire you. And why did he think he could work in such a professional environment in the first place? He’s never done that. Fukurodani was a mess. College was a mess. Rizumia is a mess, and he’s never been happier about anything.

“I know it’s hard to believe, and I won’t blame you if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.” The words taste bitter in his mouth, but he has to speak them. “But I need you to know that I still love you, and I’ll probably never stop.”

Tooru finally removes his hands from his face and looks up at him in disbelief and something a bit like hope. He looks terrible, tears and snot all over his face and his eyes red from crying, but at least he’s not sobbing violently anymore.

In what’s a kind of dumb gesture, he hands him a tissue that he takes without a word.

They sit there in silence for a long time, and at this point, Keiji is surprised he’s holding it together like he is. This is reminiscent of getting beaten up when you’re already defenceless on the ground.

After what feels like an eternity, Tooru mutters, “Why should I believe you?”

He balls his hands to fists to stop himself from shaking.

“I don’t know,” he forces himself to say. “I just hope that you can.”

They didn’t break up because they wanted to or because they were mad at each other. If anything, they had to part out of love. What they had was indescribable, a constant force of good in his life that made everything so much easier, and it ended like it began, with silent understanding.

But right now it feels like it’s been terrible from the moment he decided on leaving.

“Why didn’t you call me? I had no idea you were here.” He still sounds incredulous, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening and how he can interpret the situation.

Keiji would rather look away, but he keeps his gaze fixed on him. “I was scared. I blamed it on the stress, but in reality … If you’d rejected me, I don’t know what I would have done. I wanted to meet you in person, but not like this. It was never supposed to be like this.”

The most shocking thing of today is hearing him laugh.

It’s quiet, just a little chuckle to himself, and the smile on his lips looks involuntary, but it’s there, and he wants to melt with the sound.

“What is it?” he dares ask.

Tooru shakes his head. Looks to the side again, avoiding his gaze. “That’s so typical of you. Will you ever stop being so hesitant?” He sounds like he doesn’t want to say it, but he ended up doing it anyway, so maybe things can be okay again. “Tell me one reason why I’d ever reject you.”

That’s not what he sounded like until just a few minutes ago, but he’ll take it. “You found someone else. You decided you’re better off without me. You realised I was just holding you back. You couldn’t forgive me for leaving, if only subconsciously.”

“ _Someone else_?” Tooru repeats and sounds so disgusted at the mere suggestion it’s almost comical. “Are you serious?”

Well, personally, the idea never came up. Dating someone else was out of the question, it would have only made things worse. But he can’t speak for him. “For all you knew I was gone for good. If you wanted to move on …”

“And go out with someone I don’t care about? That’s just rude.” He smiles bitterly. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m stuck with you, for better or for worse. Although I am still mad at you.”

“That’s fair,” Keiji mutters to himself.

That heavy silence falls upon them once more, and Tooru isn’t looking at him still but he can’t bring himself to avert his eyes. He’s not trying to hide his feelings behind a shaky smile anymore; the hurt is written all over his face, clear as day, a million unanswered questions swirling around in a hailstorm.

They should continue the interview or they’ll fall behind schedule.

Keiji clears his throat. “We need to get this done. Let’s just skip to the next question.”

“Do you really need my interview?”

He’d prefer if they didn’t, and maybe they actually don’t, but he’d definitely get chewed out if he just threw it all away. Whatever gets printed is another story he has no say in, and it’s not his place to try and meddle with it. They’re just here to provide the photos and the bonus material. “I’m sorry, but we do.”

“That’s unfortunate. I’m really not feeling it.” There’s the smallest of pouts painted on his lips that reminds Keiji of the old days.

“Don’t be uncooperative. I thought you’d be excited for the chance of getting interviewed for something like this.”

“The questions are boring though. Come up with something better.”

“I’m just standing in for Hanami, remember? Shouta just sprung it on me.”

Tooru glances up at him – _finally_ – with a raised eyebrow. “Shouta? You’re on a first-name basis with someone?” The jealousy is hardly concealed in the way he says it.

“We all are. Saaya – I mean, the manager back in Tokyo was very strict about that.” He misses her sometimes, and especially now he could use her well-meaning chaotic guidance. She’d probably throw something at Tooru for daring to make Keiji feel this way. Maybe he should adopt her ways.

“A manager at Aruka?” he asks.

“Rizumia. She used to work at Aruka though. She was the one who said they should invite me to Kyoto, but she made her own company not long after, so we only met when she needed people.”

“Hold on a second.” Tooru sits up straight and holds up one hand to stop him from continuing. “You switched companies?”

Right, he doesn’t know about that. He doubts he even knows what kind of agency is doing this whole photoshoot and interview thing. “Yes. Well, at first I only helped out there while still officially being with Aruka, but when Saaya wanted to open a branch in Tokyo, I sealed it. She knew I wanted to go back, so she sent me to take care of the new branch.”

“No, wait, I’m not following.” He narrows his eyes and stares at him, clearly thinking. “Aruka was your dream, but you left for some new company?”

“At first I only agreed to help because they focus on the things I like, but I’ve come to enjoy it much more. We have a great atmosphere, even if it’s really hectic. Aruka wasn’t the right place for me.” Saying it out loud feels like he’s mocking him. _The whole thing I left you for turned out to be a terrible idea! Isn’t that funny?_

“Wow.” He doesn’t say anything more than that, only looks away again.

“I know how this sounds,” Keiji starts, but has no idea what else to say. Improvising isn’t his strong suit.

“I mean, we all make mistakes,” Tooru murmurs so quietly he’s surprised he catches it. Then, louder, he adds, “Where are you staying right now?”

“With my mother.” _Since you sold our apartment without telling me_ , is what he doesn’t add. “Now that everyone knows I’m here, I might ask someone. Maybe Bokuto-san and Kuroo-san have space left, if they can forgive me.”

“Ah.”

If he was a little braver, he’d ask him to let him stay at his new place right here and now, but he doesn’t think he has the right to.

But there’s something – something small, like a fleeting gust of wind in a too hot summer night – something about him that makes him feel like he’s begging for him to ask.

He doesn’t want to break what little truce they have right now, and yet …

What does he possibly have to lose at this point? It’s all already gone down the drain.

Still it’s difficult to even open his mouth, let alone speak. It feels like he’s imposing, like he severely misunderstood the situation and would be demanding for something he doesn’t deserve.

“Do you …” His words trail off and he’s quiet for a moment, then shakes his head and tries again. “If it’s not too much to ask … And I understand if it is … I mean, if you can forgive me … Could I …”

“Stay at my place until you find something new?” He has to commend him. His voice isn’t as broken as Keiji’s. Even though he’s still staring into nothing, even though his brows are furrowed and his lips are set in a straight line when he’s not talking, he says, “Fine.”

 

* * *

 

They never did finish that interview.

As soon as they left the room, Keiji got assaulted by Bokuto and Kuroo, and his co-workers didn’t even have a chance to get mad at him. It’s a miracle he made it out of that hug attack alive and skilfully dodged an invitation to go eat at some expensive restaurant. Even though the two of them were ecstatic about Keiji’s return, he can imagine he doesn’t feel much like celebrating.

Practice went on as normal after that until the sun set again, and he does feel a bit betrayed about their supposed free day being used for practice after all, but with how much he messes up without getting yelled at, he supposes he can’t complain.

Tooru accepted him into his apartment on a whim, but the train ride home is silent torture and he already regrets it. His ex-boyfriend’s remorse is obvious and he really does seem to want them to be okay again, and god damn it, so does he, and still …

It’s going to be difficult to forgive him for hurting him like this.

Perhaps if he was someone else, someone less experienced in holding grudges and being mad about petty things, it would be easier, but he’s not. He’s just the guy who lost his love to a company that turned out to be terrible.

Not a single word is spoken between them until they reach his apartment. It’s high up, on the seventh floor of a modern building, and he still hasn’t put a lot of stuff in it to decorate it. Now that Keiji is here, that’s probably a good thing – both because he’d get painfully sentimental and because it’s really not all that big.

“It’s nice,” Keiji says, but he can’t tell if he really means it. “I’m assuming I’ll take the couch. Do you have spare bedding or how are we going to handle this?”

That … Is a good question. He doesn’t. Also, the couch itself could be a problem – it’s nice to look at, but not particularly comfortable. No matter how he feels right now, he doesn’t want Keiji to ruin his back this early in life.

But where else _could_ he sleep? Unless …

No. No way.

“I might not have thought this through properly.”

There’s no other option than the bed. It’s big enough for the two of them for sure, and they could share a blanket for the time being, though they’d have to huddle together to both fit under it. It would be just like before everything went to shit, and frankly, he can’t handle that right now.

Even though he craves his touch so badly.

Logically speaking, there’s nothing else to do. He has to sleep somewhere, the couch won’t do it, and he’s going to need a blanket and a pillow at least. What a terrifying thought.

“Maybe we could ask the neighbours,” Keiji proposes and it’s not a terrible idea, but he doubts it’d work.

“They probably don’t know I even exist. And it’s not very likely they can help anyway.”

“I could go back home.”

“Don’t you live on the other side of the city? By the time you’re there it’s going to be past midnight.”

“Well, then …” He looks around the room in search of a solution he won’t find. Eventually, he says, “Do you have a woollen blanket or something like that?”

“No, unfortunately.” Tooru didn’t think he’d ever need one, he’s not home a lot after all.

There’s no other choice.

The implications of saying it would be severe, but he does want him to get some sleep at least, even if he doubts either of them will have a good rest. At least they’ve moved their free day to tomorrow after their spontaneous real practice session today, so it won’t matter as much.

“My …” He stares at the floor and grips the fabric of his shirt to have something, anything to hold on to. “My bed should be big enough for both of us. If you still want something to eat, there’s stuff in the fridge. I have an unused toothbrush, but you should get your own from home tomorrow. And you can take a shower if you want.”

The best way to settle this is as professionally as possible. This is just a temporary agreement after all, and they’re both adults who should know how to handle such things. He’s glad he showered back at the gym or else it would be a lot more awkward, and he’s not particularly hungry, so he decides on going straight to bed.

Tooru turns around before he can see Keiji’s reaction, but he never hears him complain, so he assumes they’ve agreed on this, at least for tonight.

He secretly hopes he’ll be asleep before the other can arrive, but his conflicting feelings keep him awake, with the rush of water from the bathroom quietly playing in the background. This is so much more complicated than it needed to be. If he had time for himself to try and sort out what he’s feeling, to think the situation over once again and come to a conclusion as to what to do, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad, but with Keiji being a continuous presence around him ever since they met again he hasn’t had that opportunity.

On one hand, he feels like he’s been thrown away, become an afterthought in his love’s life when he used to be a constant. On the other, Keiji does seem genuinely remorseful and this wouldn’t be the first time his overthinking has caused him problems. By all accounts, Tooru should be used to it.

And he wants so, so desperately to be with him again.

He can’t tell how much time is passed when he hears the door open. There’s no sudden burst of light and he almost hates how considerate Keiji is when he feels the mattress sink as he climbs into bed.

Tooru is hogging most of the blanket right now in some petty display of superiority (perhaps also because he’s been vulnerable enough today and this feels safe if nothing else), but while back then, Keiji would nudge him and steal it from him if he didn’t share, no such thing comes tonight.

He’s certain Keiji is aware that he’s not asleep; his breathing is too erratic to fool even the most oblivious of people. Somehow, knowing that hurts him even more.

A long time passes until he notices that Keiji’s own breathing has slowed down to a peaceful pace, and he dares turn around.

He’s lying on his side with his knees drawn up as if to protect himself from the cold, his features relaxed like they used to be, and the urge to touch him overpowers everything else.

Tooru reaches out to gently run his hand over his cheek, brush his hair away, take him in. This is like those terrible dreams he had in which everything felt so real and he’d wake up with a pounding heart and burning eyes, except this is real and yet the knowledge that everything’s not going to be okay next morning either way is crushing.

Seeing him lying there without anything to cover him is a unique kind of heartbreaking.

He drapes the blanket over him and turns back around to close his eyes, begging for sleep to come.

 

* * *

 

When Keiji wakes up, he’s warm and alone.

There’s no window in this room, so he can’t tell if the sun has risen yet, but the door is ajar and light is pouring through the gap, so he assumes it’s not in the middle of the night anymore.

Everything around him smells so distinctly like Tooru it’s like a punch in the gut to jolt him awake.

He remembers getting into bed last night and not daring to reach for the blanket, but now he’s underneath it and lying comfortably. Whether it’s because he grabbed it while asleep or Tooru tucked him in he does not know, and he can’t tell which option would be better for his heart.

He really doesn’t want to get up and face him right now.

Maybe if he’s lucky he’s out for a run, and he can disappear quietly to gather his stuff from home, vent about it to his mother, and check in at work even though they’re closed today. Who knows what kind of things have gone down when he didn’t go back with everyone yesterday.

With as little commotion as possible he gets up and pushes the door open to look inside the living room. Nobody seems to be there.

He takes the opportunity to brush his teeth and get as ready as he can for the day before heading to the kitchen – and stopping dead in his tracks when he sees that he’s not alone after all.

Out on the balcony, Tooru is leaning against the railing, a cup of coffee in hand. He’s looking out to the Tokyo Tower which is clearly visible from this place, something he didn’t even notice until right now. How expensive must this apartment be? It’s smaller than their old one, but in this location, it can’t be cheap.

Something is pulling him outside, if only to ask him how to work the coffee machine, even though he knows it’s going to be painful. That cold demeanour from yesterday – he’s not sure how much longer he can handle it.

And it’s all his fault.

The glass door to the balcony is closed so he gently opens it, hoping to not make a sound, but fails in doing so, and Tooru turns around with a surprised, somewhat vulnerable look on his face. He clearly didn’t expect him to just turn up and talk to him.

“Good morning,” he says and his voice is so soft it takes all he has not to jump at him and hug him and never let him go.

“Good morning,” he replies instead. It sounds as strained as it feels. “I’m sorry if I stole the blanket last night.”

“I’m used to it. And you didn’t.” Tooru waves his cup at him. It’s a simple white one he doesn’t recognise from their old collection. “Do you want coffee?”

“I was about to ask how to use the machine.”

He winces. “Yeah, it took me a good two weeks to figure that out. I’ll just make one for you, it’s faster. Black?”

Keiji nods and he goes back into the apartment, leaving him alone on the balcony. This feels so familiar, but he’s sure it’s only because he caught him off guard, and he’s still anxious, expecting it to fall apart soon.

The view really is breathtaking from here, he has to admit. He places a hand on the railing as he looks over the city, which is loud and busy as you’d expect, but directly below them is a nice little park that gives it all a more natural feel. Their old apartment was one they only got because it happened to be affordable and spacious enough for the two of them, and he was attached to it but he would have never considered it his dream home. This isn’t either; when he was young, he’d always imagine himself living in a nice small cottage somewhere on the outskirts of the city, by a forest perhaps, a quiet little place to relax in. But he finds he likes this too, even if it is small and a bit modern for his tastes.

It doesn’t feel lived in though. He supposes Tooru doesn’t spend much time here, but he’d have assumed he’d at least decorate it a bit, with how meticulous about it he always was in their old apartment. It’s like he didn’t really care this time around.

The door opens behind him again and he takes the hot cup of coffee with gratitude. The air, while not freezing, is pretty cold, so having something to warm him up is nice, since he doesn’t really feel like going back inside either.

He has so many things he wants to say to him, but as it stands, none of them matter. He’s done his part. Now all he can do is wait for Tooru to maybe someday accept his apologies.

A cool breeze rushes through the air and makes him shiver, and before he knows it, there’s an arm over his shoulder.

They stiffen simultaneously.

It’s obvious Tooru didn’t do it because he wanted to, it was merely an instinct reaction from years spent together. But he doesn’t pull away.

It’s the silence that makes the words spill out.

“What are we doing?” Keiji whispers. Turns his head. Meets Tooru’s eyes. “I love you so much. Why did I do this? I never meant to hurt you, but I did, because I’m stupid and scared and now everything is broken.”

“Keiji …”

It’s the first time he’s said his name ever since that first exclamation when he saw him.

Suddenly, all those tears he couldn’t cry yesterday come rushing to the surface.

His coffee cup shatters on the ground and Tooru pulls him into a tight embrace as he’s sobbing and repeating the same things over and over again, always _Tooru_ and _I’m sorry_ and _I love you_ until it turns into gibberish interrupted by his heavy sobs that keep him from breathing and he feels like he’s going to suffocate and drown in his own tears and everything that used to be and everything he dared dream of back in Kyoto that has turned into a despicable reality he can’t grasp.

He’s vaguely aware of a hand stroking his hair and a voice muttering comfort and apologies of its own, but none of it matters until there’s nothing left to cry and all he’s left with is shaky, desperate breaths over Tooru’s shoulder.

Even when he eventually calms down, he doesn’t move away. This is warm and familiar and makes him believe things can return to what they used to be.

Tooru is still murmuring those words, and he finally hears what they’re supposed to be. “It’s okay. It’s okay, dear. I love you. Everything’s alright now. I’m sorry I made you feel this way. It’s over now.”

“Is it?” Even these two short words come out as a whimper, voice torn apart by his crying.

“I shouldn’t have doubted you,” he says quietly, in the tone he always used to calm him down.

“No, it’s my fault. I screwed up. I made you feel like you didn’t matter to me.”

“And then you proved it wasn’t the case and I was still acting like a jerk. I know how hesitant you get when you’re faced with a new situation. I shouldn’t have been so cold to you.” It’s only now that he realises that he, too, sounds like he’s been crying. With how low his voice was, he didn’t notice at first. Both of them crying is usually the best way to tell their argument is finished, because it always ends like this. When it’s all said and done, they just want each other to be happy.

“Let’s say we were both being stupid.”

He hears him laugh, for real this time, feels the vibrations of his chest where they’re pressed together, and it feels like coming home. “God, we were.”

They pull apart just enough to look at each other, and they probably both look terrible but he doesn’t care. Right now and always, Tooru is the most beautiful person in the world.

“You’re staying in Tokyo for real this time, right?”

He nods with a smile. “I don’t think I could leave if I wanted to. This branch would be lost without me.”

“You’ll have to introduce me to everyone.” A playful grin appears on Tooru’s lips, the one he loves so much. The again, he loves all of his genuine smiles. “I mean, I have to make sure they know you’re off-limits. I couldn’t blame anyone for wanting you, but alas, you belong to me …”

“I could say the same about your team.” Though he’s fairly certain most of them will know anyway, if how open Tooru’s been about their relationship back then is any indication.

He knows that this is never going to be something they’ll look back at with happiness. He genuinely hurt him and it could have all been avoided had he been braver. But wounds heal, and the scar will serve as a reminder to never let something like this happen again.

In the end, going to Kyoto was a good thing if only for the sake of finding his place at Rizumia, but going to Kyoto wasn’t the issue, although of course he’d have been happier if he could have stayed here with him to begin with. But life finds a way, and if it doesn’t he’ll have to force it to.

Their first kiss since their reunion, shared on a small balcony in October with a puddle of coffee and the shards of a broken cup staining the floor, is sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t have much time. And neither do you, by the way.”

“Keijiiii! Don’t rush me, coach said it’s fine if I’m late today.”

“No he didn’t, don’t make things up. Besides, I still need to go to work.”

Tooru can’t argue with that, but the coach did say it doesn’t really matter right now when they arrive, since it’s mostly been free practice lately. While he does want to get some work in, he’d much prefer to spend another hour at the apartment with Keiji. They stayed up far too late last night and he’s tired and really wants to cuddle with him for a bit.

It’s been a month since they got back together and he’s forgiven him, mostly. Sometimes he thinks back to it and gets doubts, but even after they’d been apart for so long, it only took them a few days to settle back into a rhythm, one that includes being completely transparent for one another to read. It mainly means that Keiji knows exactly what to say when he feels unsure.

“I should have left ten minutes ago—” Keiji hastily shoves some papers into his back and heads for the door, but turns around halfway to come back into the bedroom and kiss him one last time before leaving for good. “See you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you,” he responds but he doubts he heard it – he’s out of the door in record speed.

Now that they’re actually living together, he finally found the motivation to put some stuff in the apartment. That annoyingly loud clock from their old place is up on the kitchen wall now and it’s still as obnoxious as ever, but he still can’t bring himself to take it down. The owl-shaped pillow Tooru got him for his birthday two years ago but ended up using for himself more than anything had been stored away neatly in a drawer he never opened until recently and is now sitting on the sofa as it used to. A few of the dumb paintings Bokuto gave them are decorating the walls, the shelves are filled with photos and figurines and the best setter award he won in junior high, and there’s a rubber ducky in the bathroom even though they have no use for it.

It makes this place feel even smaller than it already is and he thinks they may need a new one eventually. Keiji said he wanted a small house, even. Considering their current salaries, it may or may not work out in the future. Maybe they could get a cat – he’d prefer a dog but considering how often they’re away it would be a bit problematic.

He’s been playing better too. He likes to chalk it up to just general improvement, but considering how his abilities skyrocketed once everything was cleared up, that’s probably not all there is to it. Aside from the team, he’s been helping out working at the gym’s cafeteria to have a somewhat stable income when there’s no matches coming up and Keiji’s work at Rizumia is surprisingly well-paid.

Right now, things are pretty good.

Perhaps it’s stubborn optimism talking, but he thinks they will stay good for a long while after.

**Author's Note:**

> ah ... writing this ending was therapeutic
> 
> thanks for reading!! o/
> 
> hq!! tumblr: akaashi-tooru.tumblr.com/ come yell with me about Akaoi


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